


We Should Have Stayed In Bed

by thelilacfield



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Smut, The Author Regrets Nothing, This is ridiculous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 15:14:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14523402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelilacfield/pseuds/thelilacfield
Summary: The Black Order are biting off more than they can chew if they think they can pull Wanda Maximoff out of bed with her boyfriend with no consequences





	We Should Have Stayed In Bed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VisionOfScarlet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisionOfScarlet/gifts).



**A/N:** Yes, I'm aware this is ridiculous. No, I don't care that this is a ridiculous way to fix things. Yes, it should have been canon

* * *

She arches into his mouth, his hands like vices on her thighs, cries out, " _Vision_!" and slumps back onto the bed, chest heaving and face hot. Hand shaking with aftershocks, she reaches down to lace their fingers together, and gives him a giddy smile when he looks up at her, eyes dark with desire. "I swear, you get better at that every time," she says, and he ducks his head bashfully.

"I just do what you ask," he says, very quiet.

"Mm, and you do it  _perfectly_ ," she breathes, arching an eyebrow at him, and tugs at him until he slides up the bed and she can bring their mouths together, tracing a finger along a line of vibranium crossing his bare chest. Sighing against his lips as he trails his fingertips gently down her spine, she reluctantly breaks the kiss and asks, "What time did you make dinner reservations for?"

"Eight," he says, but doesn't move away, hand cupping the curve of her hip. "But what if...what if we missed it?" He's giving her the same smouldering look she's powerless to resist, leaning in close and punctuating each word with a soft kiss to her neck, breath warm on her skin as he slowly says, "What if we just stayed right here?"

" _Vizh_ ," she breathes at a lingering kiss, and he pulls back, sudden concern in his eyes.

"Or not," he says, nerves wound tight through his voice. "I didn't mean...we don't have to...are you hungry?"

Cupping a hand to his cheek, pressing her hips greedily into his, she murmurs, "Not for food," and smiles over the relief that floods into his face before she kisses him, his arm wrapping around her and pulling her on top of him, their bodies fitting together as perfectly as always.

"You -  _oh_  - you're sure?" he asks when she breaks away from his mouth to kiss at the hollow of his neck, tracing her finger down his chest to reach the hard lines of his hip bones.

"Twenty-four hour room service will be fine for later," she says, and leans up over him, cupping her hand over his erection and watching him shiver at her touch, his eyelids fluttering and his mouth going slack for a moment. "Right now I want  _you_."

"Okay," he breathes, as she busies herself kissing at his chest, lingering on the raised edges of plates of vibranium. "Okay, just let me...I should really call them. Tell them we're not...we don't need...oh,  _Wanda_."

"Sex first," she insists, and he nods, eyes glazed with lust, and she kisses him again, his fingertips digging into her to pull her closer, his gasps of her name when she starts to grind against him familiar.

An almighty crash from beneath their room makes her jerk away from him, glancing wildly around them for the source of the noise. "Probably...probably just someone knocking over that stupid statue in the reception," he says, clutching at her hips. "Wanda,  _please_."

"You put the do not disturb sign up, right?" she asks, and he nods, and she grins into another kiss, hooking her fingers into the waistband of his pants to start inching them down as he groans her name.

There's only the slightest echo of a scream to warn them before the wall behind them explodes in a shower of dust and plaster, sending her flying off him in shock, reflexively grabbing the sheet to her chest as if it's nothing more than a knock on the door from an overeager member of the hotel staff. Screaming is echoing around the hotel now, and she barely restrains a scream of her own at the beings now framed in the hole where their wall used to be, staring not at her, but at Vision. The anxiously bright glow of the mind stone in his forehead, him wincing and grabbing her hand.

"You're what the stone was warning me about," he murmurs, and she clutches at his hand as the two figures advance on them, the warm light of the hotel lamps gleaming threateningly on their weapons.

"Pathetic," one says, drawn to her full height, lip curling. "We are Corvus Glaive and Proxima Midnight, the children of Thanos. We are here for the mind stone."

"Over my dead body," Wanda snarls, red blooming around the hand not clutching the sheet around herself, the waves of terror rolling from Vision's mind into her putting her hackles up, ready to do whatever it takes to protect him.

"Surrender, and it won't come to that, witch," Proxima snarls, and Wanda draws herself up to her full height and lights the room awash with glowing red, a threat.

"Get out," she hisses.

"You must have a death wish," Proxima says, and leaps across the room, knocking Wanda back into the wall and pinning her there, even as she struggles, Proxima's hand pressed tight against her throat.

Vision seems frozen on the bed in fear, and Wanda's running out of air to scream for him to move before Corvus is over him, and Vision's terrible screams of agony when the alien stabs him through the side bring frantic tears to Wanda's eyes, kicking at Proxima to try and get free. "So sorry to interrupt your romantic evening," Proxima says, almost conversationally, and smiles at the tear that spills down Wanda's cheek, the edges of her vision crowded with black as she struggles to breathe against the pressure on her throat, forced to watch Corvus pin Vision to the bed with his foot, a satanic smile on his face as he presses the point of his blade into the mind stone. "I hope you said sufficient goodbyes."

A wave of red bursts from Wanda's body at Vision's screaming when Corvus pierces the setting of the mind stone, knocking Proxima back into the corridor, and she gasps desperately for air, a jet of red launching her across the room to crash into Corvus and knock him away from Vision, his weapon spinning out across the floor. "Hands  _off_ ," she snarls, and twists her fingers to bring the axe flying into her hand, and there's a howl of agony when she forces it deep into Corvus' chest, watches the light leave his eyes.

"Wanda..." The faint groan behind her makes her turn to Vision trying to sit up, the wound in his side glowing faintly gold. "I can't...I can't phase."

"Oh, that's just  _perfect_ ," she snaps, and turns to Proxima staggering upright for another round.

Vision grasps her wrist, looking at her so scared, breaking her heart. "Just go," he breathes, and she shakes her head. "Wanda,  _go_."

" _Never_ ," she promises, and throws herself into the fight, red winding around her fingers blocking Proxima from hurting any of the terrified people flooding out of the hotel, a kick to her chest making her stagger back.

It takes her a moment to realise there's a knife poised to plunge into her gut, drawing a drop of blood that spreads a scarlet stain over the sheet wrapped haphazardly around her, and Vision is screaming her name, and Proxima's eyes are gleaming with triumph. "Is the stone really worth dying for?" she hisses.

"He is," Wanda snarls, and twists her fingers to turn the knife away from her and force it upwards into Proxima's neck, blue blood flooding over the blade as the alien topples to the floor and lies still.

A siren wails in the distance, and she turns back to Vision, trying to help him sit upright even as he winces and huffs in agony, cupping his face between her hands, dropping a kiss on his lips. "You're okay," she whispers, trying to chase away the terror in his eyes. "We're okay, Vizh."

"I...I told you to  _go_ ," he breathes, and she shakes her head, kissing him again, needing the warmth of his skin against hers, to be sure that everything is alright. "Why didn't you?"

"I love you," she blurts out, and his eyes go wide, terror fading into surprise and, she hopes, a spark of joy. "I couldn't leave you to get hurt."

"I love you too," he breathes, and she smiles, falling into a kiss, careful as she tightens the grip of her legs around his hips not to worsen the wound in his side. "Wanda, I...you're very beautiful when you're angry."

"Beautiful?" she asks softly, a teasing tone in her voice, tilting her head at him. "Or sexy?"

"Both," he breathes, and she grins into a kiss, untangling the sheet from around her and running her hands over him as he leans back onto the pillows, taking her with him as she yanks his pants down and grinds harder against him, moving fast with the adrenaline of a fight and making him moan her name. As if nothing interrupted them.


End file.
